PhanFreud From A To Z
by Correcthorsebatterystaple
Summary: A series of PhanFreud oneshots with titles beginning with each letter of the alphabet.
1. Articulation

**1. Articulation**

Phantom had always had a way with words. Indeed, the thief had a sharp tongue, which was quick to cut and quicker to charm- particularly when it came to charming women out of their knickers. He could dance circles around anyone when it came to conversation. Perhaps the scoundrel-turned-hero was not the brightest of all, despite his unique talent of thinking quickly, yet he certainly knew the art of articulation.

There had only ever been two people who had tripped him up at his own game, and they were the two he held dearest to his heart.

Aria, with her long blonde hair and twinkling blue eyes, had left Phantom speechless since the time he had first seen her. He knew that whether he kept a portrait of her or not, he would always remember her face. She had had a youthful appearance, for youthful she was. The only disillusion to this was the slight worry-wrinkles on her forehead, which he had always itched to smooth out whenever the beautiful empress frowned.

Aria, unlike many another lady, had not tittered and giggled over Phantom's advances. Not his clever flirtation, nor his convincing attempts to obtain the Skaia from her. He recalled how he had first been interested in her, yet had been determined to prove to himself that she was just like all the others.

He had been wrong.

That night, so many years ago, Phantom had finally allowed another to creep into his heart, past his walls. He had never surrendered his memories of her, nor his love of her.

And then there was Freud.

Freud had always intrigued Phantom; when the master thief had first met him, it had been in his very study room. He had heard of the dragon master before; his name was rapidly becoming known, and Phantom had his sources. The idea of joining the man's little group who were playing at heroes had vastly amused him, and besides, he had reasoned; a wise scholar ought to have more information regarding the Black Mage. It was worth a shot, if it could aid him in his revenge.

After tracking Freud down, Phantom had climbed through his window, expecting a scream, a threat, _anything_ except for what had really happened.

He was left somewhat flabbergasted as Freud calmly stated, "I would prefer if you used the door next time."

Quickly regaining his speech, Phantom smirked, "But that's no fun, is it?"

He studied the mage as he stood up. Freud was clad in white robes, the symbol on which proudly announced his calling. A red and gold cloak went over them, clasped at the neck by a gold-chained necklace with a sapphire brooch. What befuddled Phantom more was the headband resting upon Freud's auburn hair; it was a purple band, with intricate gold designs winding around it. At each end, a dragon wing stuck out. It was quite odd, although Phantom could hardly say anything, considering his own headwear.

Freud had a commanding aura about him, one that made Phantom rethink any ideas he had about the scholar 'playing' hero. He instinctively knew that the person in front of him was, if nothing else, a leader.

"Hmm. The phantom thief himself has come to pay me a visit, has he?"

Phantom playfully bowed, sweeping low. His eyes locked on Freud's.

"I suppose that you aren't here to thieve from me, seeing as you left no calling card. What brings you here... Phantom?"

"The legendary dragon master himself knows me by name? I'm honored," Phantom said smoothly, not meaning a word of it. Despite his words, the arrogant blond was unsurprised; he knew that he was known worldwide for his grand thefts.

Freud simply arched an eyebrow, and Phantom knew that there would be no more games. It was time to cut to the chase, because the mage would tolerate no bullshit.

"I want to join the group you're assembling," He said simply. This time, he was sure, Freud would lose the cool he had kept thus far. This time, he would balk at how ludicrous the idea of a thief joining a band who called themselves heroes was.

"The infamous Phantom appears at my doorstep and offers to change his ways. Tell me, is your conscious that heavy?"

Wordlessly, Phantom held out his hand, watching a tarot card materialize on his fingertip. He flicked it in Freud's direction, and it landed on the wooden floor.

Freud stooped down to pick it up, and a slight smirk quirked his lips as he lifted it to see 'VI – The Lovers'. He studied it for a moment, then chuckled. "It appears the Black Mage stole the wrong treasure," he murmured intuitively. He looked up to meet the gaze of the thief shrouded in the shadows as he flicked the card back. Phantom caught it deftly. "Alright. I hope you can keep your hands to yourself; Afrien hates thieves."

Of all the things Phantom had expected upon that night, he had expected least of all that he would leave Freud's abode that night a new member of the heroes. It fit into his plans just fine, though.

A matching smirk appeared on Phantom's lips. "The scoundrel turned hero... It's a bit cliched, isn't it?"

With that, Phantom disappeared in a flash of cards.

Freud had intrigued him then, with his easy acceptance of him, and he had continued to intrigue him ever since. Not only had he allowed Phantom to join them, but he had stood by the thief's side when Luminous, Aran and Mercedes all protested him being one of them.

Freud was an able conversationalist, and an excellent arguer. He was passionate, yet seemed eternally calm. Phantom had yet to manage to exhaust the redhead's seemingly infinite supply of patience, despite his demands and his arrogance. Freud was a true scholar, always managing to look at things from every side. He recognized that things were not always black and white. He was witty, intelligent, and a philosopher at heart. Truly, the dragon master was someone whom Phantom could respect... And even love.

Freud was an enigma, much like Phantom himself, and he found himself wanting to truly _know_ him, in a way that their three companions never would. Yet at the same time, he was afraid. They lived in a time fraught with war; at any moment, their lives could be flipped upside-down, or even extinguished.

Phantom could lose Freud, just like he had lost Aria. He wasn't sure that he could withstand that again. Sometimes he wondered if without his servants aboard the Lumiere loyally tending to him, he would have simply laid down and not gotten up, his will to live having died alongside his love. After that, he had begun to live solely for the sake of his revenge.

Still, Phantom found himself wondering about the possibilities. This afternoon was one of such days when he daydreamed of such things.

"Phantom, is something the matter?" Freud's voice startled Phantom out of his reverie. It was deep and rich, and he savored the sound. Freud sometimes made Phantom begin to wonder if he was becoming an audiophile.

"I..." Phantom hesitated, wondering if perhaps, this time, he should say something. "It's hard to say," he hedged, amethyst eyes shifting away from the object of his affections. It was Freud who made his clever tongue become tied, above all else.

Freud did not push, or even wait expectantly. He merely nodded patiently and acceptingly, "I understand. Does it have to do with me?"

Phantom nodded hesitantly.

Freud tapped his lip thoughtfully. "Let's say that, hypothetically, two people love each other during dangerous times. Is it wrong of them, then, to have a relationship?"

Phantom flushed at the question. Was he truly that transparent? "It's irresponsible. If, say, the Black Mage abducted one of them, and gave the other the option to choose either his or her lover, or a town full of children, he or she may be blinded by his or her love, and choose it over the greater good."

Freud seemed to consider the answer carefully before responding. "But regardless of whether or not the two became involved or not, they would still love each other. The scenario you theorized would be just as likely. What, then, would you suggest they do?"

Phantom swallowed hard and stared at his boots. "...They should move on, at least until peaceful times."

"Phantom," Freud said gently, "One never truly moves on from love. Affection can fade, as well as crushes, yet if you love someone, you never let that love go."

It struck Phantom as true; he had never stopped loving Aria. Slowly, hesitantly, he met Freud's eyes. "What would you suggest they do, then?" He whispered.

Freud stood up out of the chair across from Phantom's, and walked over to the blond man. He gently tipped Phantom's chin up and chastely brushed his lips over the thief's. "Time passes by too quickly to waste," He murmured against the other man's lips.

Phantom's heart raced, and he exhaled shakily, clenching his hands on Freud's shoulders. "Do you want to spend that time on me, then?" He breathed.

Freud smiled warmly. He linked his hand with Phantom's, who felt his chest clench at the affectionate gesture. "Some things go without saying," he said simply.

There were things that were better left unsaid, and things that were said dishonestly. But Phantom liked best the things that went without saying. Love was too complicated to articulate.


	2. Bereavement

**2. Bereavement**

Resting on a velvet pillow in the most protected vault of Phantom's magnificent airborne ship, the Lumiere, lay an ornate headband.

Perhaps an outsider would wonder why the famous man kept a mere headband more protected than his many riches. Any ordinary person would wonder why, in stylized, curling gold letters on a small card resting beside the pillow, had been written '_In memory of Freud.'_ That same uninformed anonymous would be asking, 'why was Phantom talking to a _head ornament_'?

Phantom's lips curled in a soft, rueful smile as his thumb lovingly caressed the wing attached to the side of the headband. This, and his fond memories, were all that he had left of Freud. If he closed his amethyst eyes, he could imagine Freud's smiling face before him. The dragon master's smiles were small, and often weary, but Phantom had taken pride in putting that beloved expression upon his face.

The headband had proudly announced Freud's profession, just as Phantom's fabulous clothing announced his wealthiness- or rather, the 'borrowed' wealthiness of others that just so happened to be gracing his slim, attractive form.

The hand that wasn't holding the precious item clutched the fabric of his crisp white shirt tightly, over the left side of his chest.

It hurt. The ache had not faded with time. He would never truly see Freud's smile again, for his mind's eye did it no justice.

He had loved Freud- or rather, he did love Freud. The death of the man whom he loved had certainly not caused his affections to disappear.

"Yet you'll never know that, will you?" Phantom mused solemnly. _After this all is over, _he had promised himself. _Then, I'll tell you. _But he had been too late.

He could still recall the haunting image of Freud lying motionless, looking so small cocooned in the protective onyx wings of Afrien. It was a near perfect replica of Aria's death, one that had him wide-eyed as he stumbled over, silently begging '_please don't be dead, please don't be dead'_.

Afrien had lifted his wings, giving a low, mournful rumble as Phantom collapsed next to Freud.

Freud had looked as if he was just sleeping. His face was pale against the midnight of Afrien's scales. But the mage would not wake with a kiss, nor ever at all. He was an eternally sleeping beauty.

It was all Phantom's fault. He should have defeated Magnus faster, so that he could have joined the other heroes in battle.

He should have died instead.

As his shaking fingers found Freud's cold neck, he found no pulse. Phantom screamed, then, and he did not stop screaming, even as one of his loyal servants dragged him struggling and crying, like a lost child, away from Freud. Phantom was not weak, but he had been injured, and the weariness of his centuries-long magically induced sleep had already begun to settle over his mind. It was not too difficult of a task for his servant to pull him away, for his own good.

As his servants settled him upon the Lumiere, Phantom finally slumped. When the ice began to encase his body, his eyes burned instead with fire.

_Black Mage... When we awake, I will find you, and I will kill you. It will be slow and painful,_ Phantom swore. The Black Mage had bereaved him of Freud, so he would leave the man bereft of any joy he might have had in his twisted heart.

Phantom remembered a conversation with Freud from long ago, one warm, sunny afternoon. Freud was the one person whom he could trust enough to confide in.. He had been passionately speaking of Aria, and how he wished to avenge her, when the dragon master had begun to look unhappy.

"Phantom, what are you going to do when you have your revenge?"

Phantom still recalled the slight frown on Freud's handsome face. He still recalled the worry in his aquamarine eyes, and the way the light hit his auburn hair, the hair that he had always itched to run his fingers through.

The question had confused him. Yet the more and more he thought over it, the more that he realized that he truly didn't have an answer.

Phantom could stay with the heroes. Yet, would there still be a 'heroes' after the final chapter's ending? Wouldn't they go their separate ways?

Somehow, Phantom wasn't sure that he was ready to return to a life of daring heists and calling cards. If he parted with his comrades, he knew that he would miss them. All of them had become dear friends to him; even Luminous. Their dick-comparative style arguments would never cease to be a source of boundless entertainment for the thief. He didn't know Aran very well, but he knew she was a respectable woman and warrior. Mercedes was haughty and irritating, yet it was the kind of irritating that grew on you.

And most of all, he didn't want to leave the company of Freud.

_Marry you,_ Phantom smirked at the unvoiced thought.

"I don't know," He said instead.

Freud's frown deepened. The mage gazed at Phantom intently. "My dearest friend... All that I can offer is this; don't let your revenge eat you away. I can't make your choices for you, nor dissuade you from your path. But, if Aria is the person you say she is, do you truly think she would have wanted that?"

Freud had looked as if he had wanted to say more, but he stopped himself, and instead changed the subject. Phantom heard no more of it.

He hadn't understood back then, not truly, yet he did now. But what was he supposed to do? He couldn't give up his revenge. It was all that he lived for; take it away, and then, what was he? Nothing.

Perhaps Freud wouldn't have wished it, but Phantom would continue down this path.

Phantom brushed his lips over the headband, and meticulously set it back upon the pillow before leaving the vault. He knew that this time, he couldn't grow attached to another person. It would hurt too much to suffer another loss, another bereavement.

All that he had was a quest for vengeance, and his love for Aria and Freud.

It was enough.


	3. Coquetry

**3. Coquetry (warning: may contain somewhat OOC Freud).**

It started out as little gestures.

A slight brush of Phantom's nimble fingers against Freud's. A clap on the shoulder which lasted longer. Strands of blond hair being agilely twirled around his fingers whenever he caught Freud looking. These were all things that he could pass off as accidental or incidental.

And then it progressed. A hand on his thigh, rather than knee. Sometimes, Phantom would even lean over and tuck strands of Freud's auburn hair behind his ears, or kiss his cheek when thanking him. It left the mage decidedly frazzled.

Freud didn't want to call his friend out on it, but the master thief was behaving quite... Coquettish. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to take this as the behavior of a playful kitten, or a courting man. Phantom had a penchant for games, yet he had always struck Freud as the type to be straight-forward in his advances... Perhaps he had been wrong?

Freud's eyes followed the swaying of Phantom's hips as the hero walked out of his study-room. Phantom looked over his shoulder and smirked, and the mage realized that the smug scoundrel _knew_ how distracting he was. Phantom did not sidle. He did not stride, shuffle, nor saunter. No, he _swaggered_. Freud wondered how the egotistical man could even fit through the door, what with his big headedness.

The worst part was that Freud _was_ interested in his blond comrade. However, if this was just a fancy of Phantom's, a game of 'let's see how long it takes for Freud to snap', then any confession of Freud's may unnerve or possibly drive him away. Phantom was a man of few attachments, and Freud feared that he might be too afraid of 'betraying' Aria to love another.

Freud sighed and rubbed his temple. Sometimes, he wished that he could be as carefree as the master thief.

Perhaps it would be for the best if Freud just let this run its course; Phantom would surely tire of his games eventually. Yet at the same time... He wasn't sure if he could handle any more of maddening gestures such as the blond practically sitting in his lap whenever they sat together.

Freud's lips slowly turned up as it occurred to him; maybe he couldn't risk direct advances for fear of scaring Phantom away, but...

Two could play at this game.

* * *

Slow and steady wins the race.

Phantom could not always bring himself to be patient, yet it was a trait he had often had to practice in order to thieve. A single step at the wrong time could end in him being put under lock and key- not that he couldn't break out, but being caught had always been an inconvenience in his plans.

Phantom thought he'd seen things, sometimes, in the way that Freud looked at him. It had made him begin to wonder... What if?

He was afraid of rejection, if he spoke of what he felt for the dragon master. He could imagine it clearly; Freud was often smarmy. He was prideful, though not without cause. Yet he was nice. No, not nice... Kind. Phantom had never seen Freud show cruelty, and he had only ever noticed Freud displaying hatred towards the enemy. He would make the turn down quick and painless, but not sweet enough to lead Phantom on.

But maybe Phantom could test the waters...

It started out as little gestures.

* * *

It was time to put his plan into motion, Freud decided.

Freud began with leaning over to whisper a secret in Phantom's ear, making sure that his lips brushed the shell.

"I taped a note on Afrien," He murmured with a grin, watching as a slight tremor passed through Phantom. Interesting. He filed away for a later date the information that Phantom's ears were sensitive.

Phantom's eyes wandered to the sleeping dragon in the middle of a grassy clearing. A small note was stuck to the dragon's back, and Freud had written upon it, '_Do these wings make my butt look big?_'

Phantom laughed delightedly, "I never took you to be the type for pranks! Taking a page from my book, hmm?"

"I suppose so."

Freud watched Phantom's body language carefully, noticing the way the blond's body leaned towards him. Phantom's eyes always seemed to linger on Freud.

Out of the blue, Freud swatted Phantom's rear.

"Hey!" Phantom yelped, flushing attractively and shooting his companion a bewildered look.

"My apologies, there was an especially venomous spider there," Freud smiled innocently.

Yes... Two could play at this game indeed.

* * *

They were dancing. The tango was flashy, suggestive and flamboyant, and so it was no surprise to Freud that it was what Phantom chose to do. The thief was _all about_ grand entrances and exits. Phantom executed the dance with finesse, and to his surprise, so did Freud. They became one fluid motion, rather than two separate people. They both enjoyed the intimate dance. It brought to Freud's mind the quote 'Dancing is a vertical expression of horizontal desire'.

It wasn't long before they collapsed against the nearest wall, laughing and panting with exertion. "You're pretty good," Phantom remarked.

"You say that as if you expected otherwise."

"I did!" Phantom jabbed playfully. His eyes shone with lightheartedness, and Freud was selfishly glad that, at least for the moment, he was the cause of Phantom's happiness.

"Did I rise to the challenge?" Freud must've gotten the point that he meant something else across, because Phantom shot him an odd look.

"... Certainly. Who would've known that a stuffy old scholar could be skilled at dancing?"

"I'm not old yet, I'm still young and beautiful," Freud smiled.

"Quite," Phantom says, rather blatantly allowing his eyes to roam Freud up and down appreciatively, undressing him with his eyes.

Freud used his filed away information then, leaning in once more to murmur in Phantom's ear, "Perhaps you would like to find out how skilled I am?"

Their chessboard was then knocked to the ground. They won each other, and lost themselves in each other.


	4. Demanding

**4. Demanding**

Phantom, in all honesty, was demanding. Freud had occasionally dabbled in romance, yet he had never become involved with such an attention monopolizing man.

He was very fond of the master thief, and, if they were not living in times fraught with war, would indulge his lover more often. Yet it was difficult to balance information gathering and Phantom slinking into his study at one in the morning.

"Phantom," Freud asked tiredly, rubbing at his eyes. They burned, and it was getting difficult to read, yet he needed to finish the page. "Might I ask what you're doing?"

The room was lit only by a lamp, sitting on Freud's desk. Its soft glow permeated the darkness, revealing a room that any logical person could instantly surmise belonged to a scholar. It was chaotic, but the chaos mostly appeared to consist of books. The study held the appealing scent that filled libraries and bookstores; that of old and new parchment, and ink.

Freud was sitting at the cluttered desk, the centerpiece of the chaos, not even bothering to look up at the thief.

"You didn't have any dinner, did you?" Phantom fired back a question of his own, stalking up to the mage's desk and harshly slamming his hands down on it. Freud winced at the noise, hoping that it hadn't woken the others up.

"I'm busy," Freud reached for his book, only to have his hand smacked away by a gloved one. He leaned back with a weary sigh, knowing that there was no way out of this. "...Phantom," He began patiently, "Every week, the Black Mage orders his men to pillage and burn another town. I'm currently researching ways to protect innocent men, women and children."

"Refusing to take care of yourself is hardly going to help."

"You're making a larger deal of this than needs to be made. It was a single meal."

"I'm simply warning you that I'm not going to let you hole yourself up in your study and starve yourself 'for the greater good'," Phantom raked his fingers through his hair exasperatedly, mussing the curly blond locks.

"I'm a big boy, aren't I? I can take care of myself," Freud sarcastically remarked. It was difficult to hold his patience when he was tired and, admittedly, hungry.

"But, seeing as you refuse to, you leave me no choice."

Before Freud could ask what he meant, Phantom had pivoted on his heel and disappeared in a bright flash of cards. He rolled his eyes and huffed with amusement at the thief's tendency to abuse that particular skill.

_Leave him no choice but to what, display his flamboyancy?_ Freud's lips twitched upwards.

In mere moments, the nimble thief-hero had reappeared, holding a small, steaming bowl. Freud inhaled, and along with the fresh oxygen came the savory, mouth-watering scent of mushroom stew.

"I really do have things to be doing," Freud attempted weakly. Phantom firmly pushed him back against his chair.

"Then I guess I'll have to feed you myself," The blond gave off the air of the cat who had just gotten the cream as he straddled Freud's lap.

"I'm quite capable-"

"I'm sure you are. Say 'ah'," Phantom held a spoonful of soup to Freud's lips.

Feeling his cheeks burning and his pride becoming rather sore, Freud nonetheless parted his lips. He resisted the urge to hum at the taste of the thick, warm soup.

Spoonful by spoonful, Phantom fed the stew to him, until he was nearly dozing off in the chair in a food coma. "...Now, do you feel the need to thank a certain someone who is amazing and handsome?" He asked smugly.

Freud rolled his eyes. "Thank you," he murmured sleepily. Exasperated though he was, he truly did appreciate Phantom's care.

"Any time," The sincerity in Phantom's voice made Freud smile.

"Might I ask something?"

"What is it?" Phantom set the bowl down and tenderly brushed strands of Freud's hair back behind his ears. He removed the purple and gold headband from the dragon master's head and set it upon his desk, atop one of the many stacks of books.

"Why do you insist on this?"

"...I never got to take care of Aria like this," Phantom mused. Freud froze, stung by the words.

"So this is about her?" He asked frostily.

Phantom looked startled, and then he smiled. "No, no, it's just that I wish I had taken my chance to do this while I still had it. I... I want to take that chance with you," Phantom looked away, biting his lip. His next words were barely audible. "In case I lose it."

Freud took one of Phantom's hands in his and squeezed it affectionately, "I don't have any plans on dying."

They shared a chaste, loving kiss.

Neither man voiced that death happened whether one planned it or not. It went without saying.

Phantom stood, then, and he slid his hands underneath Freud, one on the small of his back and the other behind his knees. He lifted the slender mage in order to carry him to bed.

"What about my research?"

"I promise I'll help you with it tomorrow. But for now, sleep."

Freud drifted off to sleep in the arms of the thief who had stolen his heart.


	5. Embrace

**5. Embrace**

Phantom was not welcomed among the other heroes. The only one who had ever accepted him was Freud, and, although they respected the mage's word, it didn't change their respective opinions on the infamous thief.

Phantom always took Mercedes's, Luminous's and Aran's distaste with a grin and bow, never seeming bothered by it. Of course, then again, he would surely be used to being looked down upon for being a thief. His only rebuttal to their rudeness towards him was, Freud suspected, thievery. Luminous's underthings had gone missing a few too many times to be accidental...

Freud knew that Phantom didn't particularly care, but really, how could the five of them work as a team when there was such coldness to their newest addition? It was quite troubling.

"Luminous, may I have a word?" Freud pulled the light mage aside one day. The blue-eyed mage looked at him bemusedly, but sat down nonetheless.

Upon that evening, the heroes were within Phantom's ship. Freud had seen many wonderous things, but among ships, none had ever stood out to him as much as the Lumiere did. The airborne ship was rather eye-catching, with its intricate gold designs painted along the white exterior. As with all things of Phantom's, it was designed for its flair. Phantom always delighted in things with a certain pizzazz Freud had never met a man so enamored of the concept of all life being a stage.

"So?"

Freud steepled his fingers under his chin.

"Why do you hate Phantom so much?"

"I don't. I merely disagree with siding with a common, petty thief," Luminous was matter-of-fact. He had never been one to be subtle.

"It's possible for people to change."

"Once a scoundrel, always a scoundrel."

Freud resisted the urge to grimace at the show of Luminous's ridiculous black and white idealisms.

"Why are you asking this?" The mage of Aurora fired back a question of his own. Freud found himself surprised by the query, but he considered it carefully.

"I strongly believe that Phantom is a good person. Everyone has their vices and virtues, and in my opinion, he doesn't deserve your ostracism, after what he's been through. Don't you think he's been punished enough for thieving?"

"You honestly think that the Empress's death was a punishment upon Phantom?"

"No. I think that that's what he believes it to have been."

The room went silent. Freud could tell that he was at least arousing some sympathy within Luminous.

"It's not as if Phantom is going to backstab you. Whether he's changed his ways or not, don't you think he has enough reason to at least temporarily be on our side?" Freud pressed.

"I already know that he won't stab us in the back. I just can't consider a man like _that_ to be my comrade," with that, Luminous rose. "I think you forget that you're not his babysitter, Freud," The mage turned and left.

Freud sighed, heavily, knowing that the result would likely be the same if he sought out Mercedes and Aran to beseech them to at least _try_ to accept Phantom. Aran had come from a tribe of warriors with a strong moral code, and Mercedes was far too haughty to get along with an egotistical man such as the thief.

Freud glanced behind him into the shadowy corners of the Lumiere. "You can come out now, Phantom."

"Looks like I've been caught," Phantom chuckled, seeming to appear out of thin air, as thieves were prone to doing. It struck Freud how ethereal Phantom appeared to be; with his pale complexion, fair hair and haunting eyes, his name truly did suit him. "He's right, you know."

"Maybe you wouldn't need a babysitter if you would even _attempt_ to make a better impression on the others."

"And why should I?"

"Because you're lonely."

Phantom's face hardened. "Don't act as if you know me, Freud. I don't need anyone."

"You may be right, but I want to," Freud admitted honestly. "And is that really true anymore?"

Phantom hesitated, looking away. "Maybe it was, before Aria. It was just me, myself and I," he said softly.

"You can't go back to that, you know."

"...It doesn't matter. All that I need is to kill those scumbags who took her away from me, and fulfil her dream for her. Besides, I have you, don't I?"

Freud smiled, surprised and pleased. "Of course." Slowly, as if attempting not to spook a wild animal, he stepped towards Phantom.

"It's healthy to grieve, you know," Freud advised gently, moving to wrap his arms around him. The thief buried his face against Freud's shoulder, his gloved fingers clenching tightly in the red fabric of the mage's cloak. Freud felt his shoulder grow damp, but said nothing of Phantom's tears.

Whether their three companions refused to or not, Freud promised softly, he would always be there to embrace Phantom, figuratively and literally.

* * *

Hundreds of years in the future, Phantom stares numbly at the wall.

"You said that you'd be there for me..."

_So, why aren't you here?_

* * *

_ Author's note_

* * *

**Hi. Just saying here, reviews make me roll around on my bed squealing. And they might make me update faster.  
**


	6. Facade

**6. Facade. (Warning: this one is considerably darker than the others.)**

_I'm fine._

Phantom wasn't fine. He was gazing at the shattered pieces of himself and trying to piece himself back together with bleeding fingers.

It wasn't working.

_Nothing's wrong._

They all worried over him. Gaston, Mercedes, Evan... They could see something distinctively _dead_ in the way he moved, no longer graceful but now the movements of someone whose every step was a struggle. It was as if he had died with Freud. He wished he had. They didn't need to worry about someone who could never save anyone he loved.

Why couldn't it have been him?

_Don't worry about me._

It wasn't long before Phantom decided that he needed to wear a mask. Evan was finally meeting the people whom he had looked up to as a child, and he wasn't who he nor the others needed him to be.

He was a silver-tongued thief, and not for the first time nor the last, he played the lying game.

It was a game one could not win.

There was a quiet voice whispering in his head sometimes, mumbling under his breath words that tasted like candied poison.

Phantom was tired all the time, but he couldn't sleep. The dark was no longer his friend, but his enemy, because he couldn't lay in bed. He was running, and if he didn't keep his thoughts running with him, he would think about Freud.

He just couldn't. Freud had been everything to him, just like Aria. He had been his boat, and now he was drowning in the ocean. If he thought of the mage, of his blue eyes or the way he rubbed his jaw when he was contemplating something, he would simply stop. The despair would be too much.

There were dark circles forming under his eyes.

When Luminous joined Mercedes, Aran, Evan and Phantom, it got worse. The light mage expected verbal wars. Sharp, scathing retorts, because it was their dynamic. Unlike he had when Phantom had first joined the heroes, Luminous didn't honestly mean his words. It was a brotherly kind of thing.

Phantom grinned and bore it, but each word carved a new scar on his soul.

"You're nothing but a worthless, petty thief."

(_That's all I've ever been.)_

"Let's just hope that _Phantom _here doesn't decide to arrive fashionably late the next time we fight the Black Mage."

(_Worthless, and a _**murderer**_. I should have been there. I should have saved him.)_

Phantom banged at the walls of his mind, but there was no way out. He was trapped inside the mask he had created. It wasn't him that said 'I'm fine.' It wasn't him that was a _liar._ It was the gaping hole inside of him.

How could he tell everyone that they needed to read between the lines, when he couldn't reach out?

Phantom _**descended.**_

And there was no way out. He tasted the poisonous lies on his lips, and it was a sweet surrender.

"Evan?"

"Yup, mister Phantom?"

"You know, there are no happy endings."

Evan frowned. "...Are you okay?"

Phantom smiled, bitterly. "I'm fine."

**(Help me.)**

* * *

**Author's note:  
**

**Yeaaah. Um. I feels vomitted all over the chapter. Sorry. :(**

**This one's a lot shorter than the others, 'cause I'm having a bit of a writer's block here. I'll make the next one longer, I promise.**

**Once again, reviews are appreciated! I've been having a really rough time lately, and all the compliments cheered me up. :) Whether you want to suggest how to improve my writing or just drop a comment, I'd love input.**


	7. Game

**7. Game**

"Hello, Freud."

Freud sat up with a groan, rubbing his eyes. He blinked them open to his dark bedroom, and the sight of his companion sitting on his windowsill as if he belonged there, dangling a small, rectangular box from his fingers. The dragon master returned his somewhat irate gaze to Phantom's handsome, far too pleased for three in the morning face, and sighed.

When it struck Phantom's fancy to appear in Freud's room this late, it was impossible to dissuade the fickle thief. It would be best to get it over with.

Internally bemoaning the loss of his sleep, Freud stretched and yawned. He chuckled under his breath when he noticed Phantom's eyes following the stretch of skin that appeared between his shirt and the blanket as he leaned back. "Hello, Phantom. What do you need me for?"

With a smirk that was far too delighted to mean anything good, Phantom held up the box.

"I can't see in the dark, you know," Freud patiently stated, lips curving upwards with amusement.

"I discovered the most delightful treat... It's a foreign delicacy, and there's even a game you can play with it," Phantom's eyes wandered to Freud's lips.

"As interesting as that sounds, I think it can wait until morning. You're trespassing in my bedchambers, and it's late at night. I insist that you let me sleep."

Phantom rolled his eyes and dramatically threw his hands up into the air. "All of the _ladies _have liked it when I climbed through their windows."

"I deeply apologize for my tendency to not swoon over your blatant disregard for my privacy and sleep," Freud said dryly, smiling despite himself.

"Stuffy old scholar."

"Scoundrel."

"Stick in the mud."

"Your hat is ridiculous."

Phantom theatrically put a hand over his heart, sculpting a wounded expression onto his face. "You did _not. _You wound me, Freud. My hat is simply a top hat, with the finest, most silken scarf wrapped around it, a lovely mask clipped onto it as well as genuine feathers. It is-"

"Silly."

Phantom mock glared at him, and Freud mock glared back for several moments, before giving in to the grin that he couldn't hold in.

It was times like these that Freud was reminded of how much he loved the man, ridiculous, narcissistic and overdramatic though he was.

"You can insult me, but leave the hat out of it."

"So, I really do need my sleep..." Freud hinted.

"Play the game with me and then I'll go."

"No."

"_Freud,"_ Phantom whined.

Freud rubbed his jaw, pondering whether he should do that or simply roll over and pull the covers over his head. With a sigh, he decided upon the former. "Fine."

He really did indulge Phantom too much.

Looking smug and pleased, Phantom walked upon the softly creaking wooden floorboards and settled upon Freud's bed, which dipped under his weight. He handed the box to the mage, who sat on his feet and squinted at it curiously. He could vaguely make out the word 'pocky'.

The redhead flipped open the top and pulled out a thin biscuit stick, most of which was covered in strawberry cream. He bit off a piece. It was rather enjoyable, he admitted.

"So? What's this game of yours?" Freud asked upon finishing the pocky stick.

Wordlessly, Phantom pulled out a stick of pocky out. He scooted closer and then tapped Freud's lips with the pink end, and the dragon master obliged, letting the sweet strawberry cream rest on his tongue. He raised an eyebrow and smirked when Phantom placed the other end in his own mouth.

Ah... So that was what this game was.

Phantom started biting, and Freud copied. Their lips were breathtakingly close when the stick broke.

Phantom huffed, and placed another stick between their lips. This one broke, and so did the next. Each time, the thief was close enough that Freud could feel his breath against his lips, teasing him. The anticipation was nigh unbearable.

The blond let out another sound of frustration, and instead of reaching for another pocky, he shoved Freud down on his bed and pressed their lips together, kissing him passionately. Freud was startled, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn't every day that he had an attractive man's tongue down his throat.

Freud fisted his hands in the expensive, fancy cape clasped around Phantom's shoulders and then rolled them over. He kissed back, tongue stroking wetly along Phantom's teeth and tongue. No one could say that the dragon master didn't give as good as he got.

Phantom's hands tangled in Freud's already messy hair. They broke the kiss, leaving the thief somewhat dazed. "_Damn,"_ He wolf-whistled appreciatively. "Remind me again why we haven't done that before?"

"If you wanted a kiss, all you had to do was ask."

* * *

**Author's note:**

**I know that it's more than likely that pocky didn't exist back then, but the idea of Phantom and Freud playing the pocky game is just way too adorable not to write it.  
**


	8. Halcyon

Inspired by the songs Halcyon, and Bloom by the Paper Kites. Go look them up and listen to them while reading this! They set the mood :)

* * *

**8. Halcyon**

It was a peaceful afternoon, which, for the five protectors of the Maple world, was a rare occasion. With the Black Mage's soldiers attacking towns nigh every day, led by his commanders, peace was a coveted thing.

Yet for the past several days, the man had stopped. He was up to something, the heroes knew, yet there was nothing they could do; their wells of information had run dry. All they could do was wait. Allowing Freud to coop himself up in his study was far too humdrum for Phantom, so instead, he dragged the scholar outside.

"I wanted to get some reading done," Freud grumbled.

"A bit of sun won't kill you."

"Tell the others that my last words were 'It was Phantom's fault'."

"Hey!" Phantom huffed, lightly shoving the mage's shoulder.

The day was pleasantly warm, the sunlight streaming onto their faces through the gaps in the leaves above them. Through the gaps, the duo could see patches of cerulean sky, with the occasional wisps of clouds. They could hear birds chirping away, singing their songs both mournful and filled with joy.

It smelled fresh and crisp, of flowers and woodland, along with the wind bringing the scent of a lake. Phantom smiled softly; he had been in many rich, extravagant man made places, and as much as he enjoyed them, there was truly nothing that could best nature's beauty.

"So? Where are we going?"

"The lake," Phantom announced. He grabbed Freud's hand, enjoying the intimate gesture, and swung their interlocked hands back and forth giddily as he led them towards the body of water he sought.

With his gloved hands, he parted a leafy overhanging and revealed the sight of a beautiful clearing. The sun glinted off of a large lake, which was surrounded by flowers of many colors. Birds gathered to drink from the water, their colorful plumage standing out starkly against the light blue.

This was a place that Phantom always enjoyed going to, simply for its serenity. It was a place to get away... And now he could share it with Freud.

Phantom pulled off his boots and wiggled his toes in the soft grass. Freud mimicked him, and they settled down at the edge of the lake to dangle their feet in the cool water. Phantom squeezed Freud's hand affectionately.

"It's pretty," Freud smiled back at his lover.

"Just like you," Phantom replied with a cheeky grin.

The charming thief was promptly shoved into the lake. As his head surfaced, he spluttered indignantly, glaring at Freud, who was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe.

"Ahaha- Y-you, ha, look like a cat getting a bath..." Freud wiped the tears from his eyes, only to smirk at the sight of Phantom with his dripping wet hair and pouty expression

"These-these are _expensive!" _Phantom complained, pointing to his fancy clothing, which was now soaked. "I was paying you a compliment!"

"I'm hard to please?" Freud grinned sheepishly, toying with the curly hair at the nape of his neck.

Phantom's only response was to yank on Freud's ankle, dragging him into the water as well. The scholar rolled his blue eyes and pushed his sopping wet hair back.

"Well, if we're going to be swimming, we should at least take our clothes off," The dragon master suggested reasonably. He unclasped his red cloak and laid it out on the grass by the lake, lifted his robes over his head, and did the same with them. All the while, Phantom's eyes followed his movements. The thief didn't even bother trying to hide his interest.

"Pervert," Freud chuckled. (Of course, he was doing the same thing, as Phantom stripped.)

Phantom grinned and took a bow. "At least I'm honest about it."

The water was pleasant, swirling around their now uncovered torsos. The pair swam about like a pair of fish.

"I bet you can't catch me," Freud challenged, eyes gleaming with playfulness. It wasn't often that he got the chance to let loose.

Phantom took the bait, chasing Freud and laughing. Several times, he almost caught Freud, but the redhead was rather slippery.

It felt like the childhood Phantom had never had.

Phantom's arms finally enclosed around his squirming prey. "Caught you. What do I win? How about a kis- bluh!"

Phantom wiped at his face, which had just been splashed by Freud, and huffed at the escaping mage. "No fair."

"Since when have _you_ played fair?" Freud snorted at the hypocrisy.

"Hm... Good point," Phantom promptly swam over to Freud and yanked the dragon master's underwear down, grinning sadistically as he yelped. "_P-Phantom!" _He protested.

Phantom ducked under and admired the view.

A rather flustered Freud chased him around and splashed him for it, but it was _so _worth it.

They spent hours playing around in the water, until the sun was dipping down over the horizon, and the leaves were speckled with milky orange light. The temperature was dropping, and they were beginning to shiver. The lovers climbed onto the grassy bank and collapsed underneath a tree, exhausted. Phantom rested his head on the chest of Freud, who carded his fingers gently through the blond's slowly drying hair.

"Thanks," Freud sighed, a content smile upon his face.

"Any time," Phantom leaned up to claim his awaited prize. The kiss was slow, sleepy, and ultimately satisfying.

They watched the sun paint over its blue canvas, staining it in vivid pinks and oranges, until Freud's eyes drooped closed.

This, and Aria, were everything to Phantom. The flutter of the eyelashes that framed those deep blue eyes meant more to him than the rest of the world. Freud _was _his world.

"I love you," Freud murmured in his sleep, tightening his arms around Phantom.

"I love you too."

* * *

**Author's note:**

**I mostly based this off of the lyrics of the first song I linked up at the top, but it's also inspired by the meaning of the word halcyon. Tayuke mentioned that it seems like the last chapter was Phantom reminiscing about good times he had with Freud, and halcyon means 'a period of time in the past that was happy and peaceful'.**


	9. Illness

**9. Illness**

"I _told _you that you would catch a cold if you stayed out too late in the evening," Freud scolded as he wrapped a thick blanket around a shivering Phantom's quaking shoulders.

"Oh, cheer up, busybody, there's a silver lining to every cloud. Now I get to have you nurse me back to health," Phantom grinned impishly through chattering teeth. "Besides, I wanted to look at the stars."

"You're quite like a young crow, you know; you love shiny things. Since you still refuse to tell me your real name, shall I call you Corvus?" Freud teased.

"Phantom they call me, and Phantom shall do," Phantom said idly, toying with the fur of the blanket wrapped around him. "A rose, by any other name, would still smell as sweet."

"Fair point."

Freud's hands, mostly covered by fingerless gloves, pressed gently against his lover's chest, urging him to lie down on the mage's bed. "You should rest."

The master thief acquiesced, turning his face into the soft pillow to breathe in the scent that soaked it; that of Freud.

"I suppose I sound like shit?" Phantom chuckled, and, indeed, his voice was rather croaky. His face was flushed and clammy.

"Indubitably," Freud smiled sympathetically, tenderly brushing his thumb along the pale bangs that covered Phantom's forehead.

"I feel like it," Phantom admitted. His entire body ached, and he felt like he was freezing. On top of that, his throat hurt. The thief exuded an air of stoic misery.

"Shall I get you some soup?"

"You don't have to."

"You're always taking care of me. It's my turn, don't you think?"

"Nmh," Phantom sighed noncommittally into the pillow. "Too nauseous to eat."

Freud turned to leave, but Phantom reached out and caught his bony wrist with agile fingers. "Stay."

The mage obliged with a smile, sitting down by the bed. There, he stayed, watching over his sick charge.

Phantom burrowed deeper into the blanket, his shivering gradually growing worse. Finally, his lover sighed, and lifted up the blankets to crawl in beside him. The blonde pushed him back with a protest. "What are you doing? You'll get sick, too."

"Do I look like I care?" Freud asked amusedly, his face the very picture of nonchalance.

"_I _care."

"Too bad," Freud pulled Phantom to his chest. The tired thief gave up his struggling and relaxed, cuddling into the redhead's warm arms. His trembling slowed.

They fell asleep like that.

* * *

Freud awoke to screaming. Phantom was thrashing and crying out, his hands clutching the other man's shoulders so tightly it stung.

"Hey," Freud murmured, gently shaking Phantom. This wasn't the first time that this had happened. The man awoke with a start, his amethyst eyes wide and tear filled.

Phantom clenched his hands even harder. He was trembling violently once more, but this time, it wasn't from the cold. His eyes met Freud's, before he uttered a single word, which came out as a sob.

"_Aria."_

Freud gently drew Phantom to his chest once more, rubbing circles on his back as his lover cried violently.

"I couldn't save her."

"It's not your fault, love."

"Yes, it _is!"_

_"Shh," _Freud murmured into his ear. "Breathe."

Phantom gasped for breath, struggling against the tears. It took time, but his sobbing and gasping died down, leaving him snuffling as Freud comforted him.

"I really am like a crow," Phantom muttered bitterly. "I bring death."

"Don't say that."

Phantom said nothing more, keeping his cynical, depressed thoughts to himself.

Freud sighed and buried his nose in the blonde's curly hair. He knew that Phantom would never truly recover. Losing someone whom he loved was far too tragic an event to 'get over'. But he had to wonder when it would get better. He didn't want him to suffer anymore.

He remembered how it had been before; when Phantom first joined them, Freud often heard him screaming and crying at night, yet was unable to do anything. Phantom was far too prideful and prickly to allow a mage whom he had just met to comfort him. Any attempts to ask about his obvious nightmares were met with barbed words.

It was only when they became intimate that Phantom finally let him in. Freud felt privileged to have earned the thief's trust.

"It's not fair," Phantom finally murmured, after what felt like hours of laying there, unable to sleep. If he slept, it would bring back the nightmares. It would bring back Aria's lifeless body before his eyes. He wasn't even sure if Freud was still awake.

"It's not," Freud agreed softly.

"You won't leave me, right?" Phantom asked tentatively, tipping his chin up to look at Freud with fearful eyes.

There was a lost child in everyone. Freud was the only one Phantom trusted enough to show his personal weak side to.

"I'll do my best to stay by your side."

And he did. He stayed there as Phantom coughed and sneezed and began to complain about his symptoms.

And when Phantom was over his cold and Freud began to cough and sneeze himself, the mage's thief in dashing ensemble was there to spoon feed him soup. (And say 'I _told _you so').

The world was a tough place, but the dragon master and scoundrel/hero had each other's backs.


	10. Important author's note

**Author's note:**

Hey, so... This isn't a chapter, sorry to disappoint. I just wanted to say, to those who read this (I appreciate it, by the way), that this story is on hiatus. It's been three weeks since I last updated and I've just been too busy to write anything more.

I've been having difficulty writing because of suffering from depression and cutting, so please bear with me. Again, I'm sorry about this not being an update.

I do intend to continue this story eventually, because I know that I hate it when stories I like stop updating in the middle, but it may be a while before my muse decides to wake up.

When I do get around to writing again, I'll make sure to make up for the wait with extra long chapters~!

-Correcthorsebatterystaple


	11. Judicious

**10. Judicious**

It wasn't the best idea to piss off a renowned mage who just happened to be (quite literally) the soul mate of a giant fire-breathing dragon.

Then again, Phantom had never been particularly judicious.

It was midnight when the blond thief snuck into his lover's study, his experienced feet nimbly treading on the wooden floorboards with hardly a sound. It barely took any effort; he knew his way around Freud's home by heart, due to many nights of sleeping there. He could probably make his way to Freud's bed blindfolded... He licked his lips at the thought before sheepishly realizing that it wasn't the time to be entertaining fantasies like that.

Not that he didn't have time; the dragon master was, at the moment, out flying upon his trusty steed.

"Though, Afrien would charbroil me if I referred to him as a steed," Phantom mused under his breath.

There was really no need to be sneaking about, seeing as no one was there except for Phantom, but the hero had to keep up his skills, after all! What would the people say if their dashing thief became rusty?

Phantom eased open the worn wooden door, stalking over to Freud's desk with cat-like grace. With a mischievous grin, he plopped himself in the mage's chair and seized a stack of important-looking papers at random. It was dark inside, but due to his excellent night vision, he managed to read it.

Freud's handwriting was plain and slanted, unlike Phantom's own flowing and admittedly rather feminine handwriting.

"_Binding spells are a complex form of magic,_ blah blah blah, _the object of the spell, due to the unpredictability of the sealing, are often sealed away for hundreds of years, rather than permanently..._" Phantom trailed off, rolling his eyes. "Bo-ring~!" He sing-songed.

As unlikely as it was, Phantom had to admit that he was hoping to find perhaps a journal disclosing Freud's deepest, fluffiest thoughts about how he loved Phantom and wanted to make passionate, kinky love to him.

What? A guy could dream, couldn't he?

With a dramatic sigh, the master thief leisurely leaned back in the chair, kicking up his boot-covered feet onto the desk. The blond started to put the papers back, but then his fingers brushed against something... He picked it up to realize that it was a pen.

A wicked grin spread across his face. Anyone who knew Phantom, of course, would realize that this expression meant that it was time to turn tail and run as far away from him as possible.

Phantom dipped the pen in ink and began to doodle on the important papers. He began to draw himself and Freud, and before he knew it, the drawings of them were in a rather... Intimate (read as: NSFW) position.

He smirked and wrote 'Phantom was here! :)' in a corner.

"My work here is done."

* * *

...Freud was a patient man.

No matter what Phantom threw at him, he always took it in stride. After all, there was little use in throwing a tantrum over his lover's antics.

But this?

Freud looked down at his research papers, _important _research papers which were _crucial_ to their battle against the tyranny of the Black Mage, and his eyebrow twitched.

Phantom had _vandalized _them.

This was the last straw.

(Although... Freud blushed. He may have to try that position.)

* * *

Phantom stood back as Freud paced back and forth in front of him, brow furrowed. The mage came to an abrupt halt.

"What," Freud paused, holding up the piece of paper that Phantom recognized from the previous night, "is _this?"_

"I honestly don't know what you mean," Phantom did his best to look wounded as he played innocent.

Freud's eyes narrowed.

"Phantom, you are many things," Freud began. "I'm sure that among these you would list adjectives such as 'debonair' or 'irresistible'," Phantom's chest puffed out. Why, of course!

The pompous thief deflated with the mage hero's next words, "Well, to the long list of things that you happen to be, you may now add 'exiled to the couch'."

Phantom floundered for words. Freud had _never_ done that before!

"_What? _You can't do that, Freud!"

"Maybe next time you'll _think_ before you deface my studies."

For the next half hour or so, Phantom was forced to listen to his lover drone on and on about how important those papers were, shifting from foot to foot and letting it pass through one ear and out the other. When he was finally excused, he let a long-suffering sigh escape him as he threw himself down onto the couch.

How was _he _supposed to know that those papers were that important, or that messing with Freud's research was the only thing that he couldn't get away with? Sheesh!

Although, Freud _was_ pretty sexy when he was angry. Phantom snickered into the couch cushion.

Too bad he wasn't getting any tonight.

"Le sigh," Phantom pouted, flipping over onto his back.

Five in the morning found the debonair, irresistible, exiled to the couch thief unable to sleep as he stared up at the ceiling. After he had been awoken by a nightmare several hours ago, Phantom had begun to regret messing with Freud's papers. He had nightmares less frequently when he was asleep next to the man whom he loved.

Phantom flung an arm over his tired eyes and sighed softly, wishing that nightmares about Aria would plague him less often. Every time he closed his eyes, he relived the moment that his world had cracked. Freud was the only one who knew about the nightmares.

Finally, unable to stand it anymore, he got up and tip-toed towards Freud's bedroom, pushing open the door to reveal the adorable sight of the sleeping redhead cuddling a pillow.

The master thief _did not_ get jealous of pillows.

He did _not-_

...Screw it. Phantom snuck over to the bed, pried the offending pillow out of Freud's iron grasp, and took its place, smiling as the mage wrapped his arms around him instead.

The two let out synchronized sighs of contentment. Phantom laughed softly at how Freud had had to cuddle a pillow and pretend it was the blond in order to fall asleep. Plus, the door hadn't been locked. He wondered if Freud really had meant to keep him out.

This wasn't the best idea Phantom had ever had, of course; Freud would most likely murder him in the morning.

Phantom ignored common sense and cuddled closer.

...After all, he had never been particularly judicious.


	12. Kidding

**11. Kidding**

"_F-Freud,_" Phantom whimpered, clenching his sweaty fingers in the bed sheets.

"Stop..." The blonde attempted to squirm away, only to be firmly held down by his lover's hand on his hip.

"Just hold on," Freud murmured placatingly. Just then, Phantom let out a harsh cry after a particularly rough twist of the redhead's tool.

"Could you at least _try_ to be more gentle? H-honestly, you have no technique," Phantom grumbled, wincing.

The sight of the thief was rather erotic; his eyes were hazy, his cheeks were flushed and sweat-slicked, and his lips parted alluringly.

"H-hurry up-!" Phantom gasped desperately, tipping his head back and clenching his eyes shut.

Freud kissed the thief tenderly to distract him from the pain, flicking out his tongue along the soft lips against his in order to beg for entrance. Phantom parted them to allow the wet muscle in, and then he sucked on it in a way that drove Freud crazy.

The mage felt the other man let out a over-dramaticized moan into his mouth before he drew back, triumphantly holding up a pair of tweezers with a bloody shard of glass clutched by them. He dropped it into a bowl full of other such shards.

"_There,_ was that so hard?" Freud snorted.

"Yes!" Phantom whined, crossing his arms over his chest immaturely. "That hurt, you know."

"You're a grown man, you can handle some pain," The mage hero replied nonchalantly, the corners of his lips twitching as he caught the blond's muttered "_So cold..."_

Freud soaked a cotton pad in alcohol and then dabbed at the deep, bleeding injury on the thief's upper arm. They had engaged in another battle with the Black Mage's commanders, resulting in a draw. During the fight, Phantom had been knocked into a glass object, resulting in the injuries Freud was now cleaning and bandaging.

It was rare that Phantom actually got hit, with how nimble he was. It brought a frown to Freud's lips that his lover wasn't as invincible as he often almost seemed to be.

As calm and unfazed as he was on the outside, Freud truly did hate seeing his comrade hurt. After he set the first-aid kit aside, having finished taking care of all the wounds, he abruptly pushed himself into Phantom's arms, winding up knocking the other over. "_Oof. _What was that for?"

"No reason," Freud said, but it was mumbled against the thief's chest and thusly came out more like "Nngh mfmmf."

The red-haired man looked up in an almost uncharacteristically shy manner. "Phantom... Take care of yourself, okay?"

Freud knew that Phantom was the one terrified of losing him, after his traumatic past experience with Aria. Yet... He couldn't stand the thought of losing _Phantom_, either.

Phantom smiled and ruffled the love of his life's hair. "Do you really think that I'd let myself go down so easily? Who do you take me for?" The amethyst-eyed male paused, a far-off look in his eyes. He was dreaming of the future, Freud knew; because he, himself, wished for such a future as well. Maybe in that world, they could raise a family together. "...Besides, I have to fulfil Aria's dream."

Freud smiled softly, comforted. He entwined his fingers with Phantom's.

"We'll fulfil it together."

* * *

Author's note:

Did I fool you with the first few paragraphs?

...I regret nothing.


End file.
